e bank that's broke--
breaking me along with it."

"And you've nothing left? No chance for starting it again?"

"Not a _claco_. Here I am apparently in my own house, with servants,
such as they are, around me. It's all in appearance. In reality, I'm
not the owner. I once was, as my father before me; but can't claim to
be any longer. Even while we're sitting here, drinking this Catalan,
the mortgagee--that old usurer Martinez--may step in and turn--kick us
both out."

"I'd like him to try. He'd catch a Tartar, if he attempted to kick me
out--he or anybody else just now, in my present humour. There's far
more reason for us to fear being pulled out by policemen, which makes it
risky to stay talking. So let's to the point at once--back to where we
left off. On your oath, Faustino Calderon, you're no longer a man of
means?"

"On my oath, Francisco de Lara, I haven't an _onza_ left--no, not a
_peso_."

"Enough. Now that I know your financial status, we will understand one
another; and without further circumlocution I shall make you a sharer of
the bright thought that's flashed across my brain."

"Let me hear what it is. I'm all impatience."

"Not so fast, Faustino. As I've already twice told you, it's no child's
play; but a business that requires skill and courage. Above all,
fidelity among those who may engage in it--for more than two are needed.
It will want at least four good and true men. I know three of them;
about the fourth I'm not so certain."

"Who are the three?"

"Francisco de Lara, Manuel Diaz, and Raphael Rocas."

"And the fourth, of whom you are dubious?"

"Faustino Calderon."

"Why do you doubt me, De Lara?"

"Don't call it doubting. I only say I'm not certain about you."

"But for what reason?"

"Because you may be squeamish, or get scared. Not that there's much
real danger. There mayn't be any, if the thing's cleverly managed. But
there must be no bungling; and, above all, no backing out--nothing like
treason."

"Can't you trust me so far as to give a hint of your scheme? As to my
being squeamish, I think, De Lara, you do me injustice to suppose such a
thing. The experience of the last twenty-four hours has made a serious
change in my way of viewing matters of morality. A man who has lost his
all, and suddenly sees himself a beggar, isn't disposed to be sensitive.
Come, _camarado_! tell me, and try me."

"I intend doing both, but not just yet. It's an affair that